


Slow It Down

by DarkVictory



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Challenge fic, Fluff, Fun, M/M, happy endings, jesus saves, warmth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-16
Updated: 2018-09-16
Packaged: 2019-07-13 06:05:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16011815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DarkVictory/pseuds/DarkVictory
Summary: My entry for the #PaulRoviaDeservesBetter2018 challenge. Just a fluffy, fun, slice-of-life fic.





	Slow It Down

**Author's Note:**

> Title is a Goo Goo Dolls song. Yes, they still make music and I still listen to it.

***  


At the beginning, Daryl continued to be hostile and suspicious long after the rest of his family had accepted and trusted Jesus. Daryl didn’t want him to be in on strategic meetings and he didn’t respond to Paul’s attempts to get to know him. 

Paul, of course, was already smitten and had told Daryl with a cocky smile that had often gotten him laid pre-apocalypse, “I’ll charm you yet, Mr Dixon.”

Daryl had squinted back and muttered, “Not likely,” but Paul had it on good authority (Maggie’s) that Daryl was already warming up to him in his awkward, redneck, loner way.

And then of course fighting a war at someone’s side had a way of bringing even the most antisocial misfits together. 

The two of them were the stealthiest fighters of all the communities so they were often paired up for surveillance and intelligence-gathering missions. Paul was too focused on fighting the war to flirt on these outings and that ended up gaining Daryl’s affection and respect more than flirting would’ve done, not that Paul actually realized that (Maggie had to tell him).

In the same way, Daryl didn’t respond to the little gifts Paul brought him back from runs but he did catch Daryl staring when he presented Maggie with a book about raising a child after being widowed. A few days later, Daryl tossed him a t-shirt that had a cartoony print of a grinning Jesus Christ dressed in hockey gear in front of a goalie net, with the text “Jesus Saves!”  Paul had burst out laughing (for what felt like the first time in forever) and pronounced it “Genius.” Daryl just mumbled that he had seen it on a run and it wasn’t a big deal, but he couldn’t hide the blush creeping across his cheeks.

On a run together after the war, Paul had been flirting with Daryl and generally showing off as he often did around the older man (and how many times had Maggie told him it wasn’t necessary?) when the stealthiest walker left in the world got the drop on him and almost sank its teeth into Paul’s damn neck before Daryl’s bolt got it right in the eye, just a couple inches from Paul’s own face. 

While catching his breath and coming to terms with the closest call Paul had had since the early days of the apocalypse, he laughed nervously and said, “I finally charmed you, huh?”

Daryl shrugged and pulled his bolt out of the walker. “Wouldn’t go that far. Maybe grew on me a bit is all.”

A slow smile spread across Paul’s face. “I’ll take it.”

“Good. Maybe you’ll quit putting on a damn show for me all the time and just be normal then.”

Paul’s eyes widened and he attempted to stutter a denial before Daryl cut him off.

“I know I’m a weird old redneck but I ain’t a complete idiot. You don’t show off like that in front of anyone else.” He busied himself cleaning the gore off his bolt. “Couldn’t figure out  _ why _ until Maggie told me you’re gay. I had no idea. But then my gaydar’s never been worth shit.”

Paul’s mouth hung open. “Your…?”

“Ya heard me. You’re not the only gay guy left on earth. And I get that teasin’ me is a lot of fun for you but you can knock off the flirting and the showboating.”

“Oh shit, Daryl, I had no idea you were taking it that way.”

Daryl shook his long bangs out of his ways to squint at Paul. “What way?”

“That I was just messing with you.”

“What the hell else would you be doin’?”

“Trying to—flirting—telling you—“ Paul sputtered. Daryl looked more confused than ever. “Telling you I like you! I’m interested, I’m into you, I want you to be my boyfriend!”

Daryl recoiled. “Me? Why the hell would ya want me?”

Paul’s scream of frustration was cut off by the arrival of several walkers that after dispatching them, Daryl snidely remarked were drawn by Paul’s screeching. Before he could fire back a retort, Paul stumbled into a ditch full of water from the recent rains and Daryl could barely stop laughing long enough to help him climb out. 

The drive back to Hilltop was stony and silent, as Paul was too embarrassed by his stupid fall to continue his smooth seduction, and Daryl still seemed to be grappling with Paul’s baffling interest in him. Once back in the trailer they shared, Paul still didn’t know what to say to Daryl and was afraid of saying something ridiculously stupid that might turn him off (even though Maggie had told him  _ repeatedly _ that fancy words weren’t needed with Daryl) that he quietly turned in for the night and Daryl did the same.

***

When Paul woke the next morning, he couldn’t stop the groan he emitted upon feeling the all-encompassing pain in his head. Daryl, already awake and sharpening knives at the table, asked “The hell was that?” But when Paul tried to answer, he started coughing and didn’t seem to stop for about 45 years or so. Daryl smirked. “Somebody caught the plague from that ditch water.”

Paul finally managed to croak “Thanks for your sympathy,” before pulling the blankets over his head. He was so lost in the pain in his head that he didn’t hear Daryl leave the trailer, then return ten minutes later. “Knock knock,” came Daryl’s voice from outside the blankets.

Paul poked his head out, hair standing on end from the static electricity. “Come to gloat some more?”

Daryl looked at him strangely. “O’ course not.” He held out a couple of pills and a glass of water. “Doc says to take these.”

“No way. Save them for something serious.”

“Doc says to take these,” Daryl repeated firmly.

“I’ll be fine. Just have to suffer for a few days.”

Daryl sighed and put the pills and glass down on the table, then put the back of his hand to Paul’s forehead. “You’re burnin’ up, dumbass. The pills will get your fever down. Doc says fevers can get real serious nowadays so you have to nip ‘em in the bud.” He held the pills and water out again and this time Paul stubbornly took them.

He was just getting comfortable again when Daryl put a cold cloth on his forehead. “What are you doing?” Daryl didn’t answer but instead went to the foot of the bed and put two thick pairs of socks on Paul’s feet. “Seriously, what’s going on?”

“Somethin’ my grandma used to do,” Daryl mumbled, somewhat sheepishly. “She said you gotta draw the fever down from the head by keepin’ the feet warm.”

“Does that...even make sense?”

“Dunno, but she lived to be 95 so I figured it can’t hurt.”

Paul had to concede the point.

***

Daryl turned out to be quite the mother hen (which Maggie had insisted he was but Paul didn’t believe her), doting on Paul for days. He had to admit that he definitely would’ve been sick much longer if it wasn’t for Daryl.

When Paul was finally well enough to sit up and eat the bowl of soup Daryl carefully handed to him, he admitted, “Alright, fine, you win, I’m the one who’s charmed.” Daryl looked puzzled. “I said I would charm you, remember? Not long after we first met?”

Daryl’s face cleared. “Oh yeah. That was dumb.”

“Yes, I see that now,” Paul said drily. “I apologize for trying to charm you when it was obviously never going to work.”

“No, ya dummy. S’not what I meant.” He fussed with Paul’s blankets, avoiding eye contact. “I was already charmed by the time you said that,” he mumbled.

Paul smiled and put the bowl of soup on his bedside table. “Wait, what?”

“Damn fireworks in the trash can,” Daryl sighed. 

“That’s all it took?!”

“Well, it was a good start! Damn clever. Was pissed that I fell for it.”

“Pissed...but charmed.”

“Yeah.”

Paul took a deep breath. “Does that mean...you want to be my boyfriend?”

Daryl hesitated. “You really meant that?”

“Yes!!! Sorry, I don’t mean to yell, but trust me, Daryl, I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it.” He extended a hand. “Now that you’ve charmed the hell out of me, I mean it even more. So...are you in?”

Daryl slowly took Paul’s hand. “Yeah, I, um...Yeah.”

Paul yanked on Daryl’s hand and pulled him onto the bed, grinning. “Good. Now why don’t you try charming my pants off? Won’t be hard to do, I promise.”

***

 

**Author's Note:**

> Comments & kudos MUCH appreciated. I'm merrymerricat on tumblr, come say hi!


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